I've been a bad blogger. This I know. Recently I took my first full time pastry gig, while attending school for my bachelor's degree, leading me to believe I'm either insane or slightly retarded. Bring on getting my ass kicked day after day. And because I no longer wish to have awkward moments at my place of work where other employees bring up my blog in conversation because somehow they've found it, I've chosen to no longer disclose wherever I'm working.

I'd like to write more, however, I won't be getting much free time for a while. Hopefully upcoming posts in the next couple weeks will include a gelato sandwich, a Sicilian specialty which I've never tried before, and a review of Parc.

Side note, I helped out last week at the Let Them Eat Cake competition at Loews Hotel. There were some amazingly beautiful cakes, and cakes that tasted like crap. And it's complete bullshit - maybe four of the fifteen judges had any idea what they were talking about, not to mention the whole idea of a cake competition is biased from the beginning because everyone looks for something different in a wedding cake depending on what they like. Let's just say I don't plan on participating in any cake competitions any time soon.

More soon...maybe.

The Best Chocolate of My Life

I had the best chocolate of my life in Paris two weeks ago. Really, I did. It almost didn't happen – it was a favor for an acquaintance that I'd never met, a chocolatier in Maryland who just had to have some chocolates from Patrick Roger to get new ideas. As my only day in Paris, at first I thought there's no way I'm going to go out of my way to do a favor for someone I've never met, but for whatever reason I did and was able to convince the four friends I was with to put up with it. It was a rainy, gloomy day in Paris and we trudged on and on, desperate to get to our destination. Our pants were wet and soggy at the bottoms and our feet hurt, my friends kept shooting comments at me that this chocolate had better be made of clouds from heaven. And finally, somehow, we made it, and we were immediately silenced and forgot our qualms: we were standing in front of chocolate artistry unlike any other we'd seen before.

In the windows of the shop is what immediately captivates us: there are chocolate butts in front of us. It resembles the lawn ornaments you see sometimes of a pudgy woman bent over, bloomers hanging out, except that it's made of chocolate. And it's much more detailed than those lawn ornaments; it's obvious that Patrick Roger has an eye for detail that is uncanny. Inside, chic brownish black counters curve around the walls, with a curved center counter as well. Lined along all the walls are various products: chocolates and candies, cocoa powders, caramels, even glittery brightly colored marzipan animals, all in beautiful bright teal packaging. Hanging from the ceiling are huge modern light fixtures: a few feet across, they vaguely resemble white Christmas ornaments but are wiry instead of solid.

Once we make it inside we're able to explore all that it has to offer: individually wrapped bars of chocolate in flavors traditional and eclectic alike. Boxes of assorted chocolates and caramels line the counters neatly, on one wall they even sell the chocolate that they use to make them in different cocoa percentages. The caramels are encased in bright green glossy half-domes. On another wall, there are small, beautifully made marzipan animals, vividly colored ducks and elephants, coated in glitter. An almond makes up the beak for the ducks – attention to detail is pronounced. We made our way around the store, snapping photos constantly, the two girls that work there looking at us as though we were insane. Finally I settle on a purchase: the praline chocolate bar. Only a couple inches long, it's three Euros – the most expensive chocolate I've ever had. Once outside, we stand in a little circle to share our tasting. The smooth praline filling is enrobed with dark chocolate, a common flavor combination. A friend just had a bite of her lemon basil chocolate, and when I glance over I see her staring at it, in complete awe, at a loss for words. It's as though the chocolate has her hypnotized. Eventually I'm able to have a piece of it myself and can understand what she's going through.

This was perfection in the form of chocolate – and I don't even believe in perfection. It was nirvana. It was a deep, moving, religious experience. The flavors were in perfect balance: perfect amount of chocolate, perfect amount of lemon, perfect amount of basil. I wasn't standing on the street in Paris on a cold rainy day anymore – I was transported to a warm grassy field, sun shining, nothing but the field surrounding me. I had reached enlightenment. There was no strange or metallic aftertaste, no extract had been used, only pure natural flavor: essence of lemon and basil with chocolate. And it's not even a flavor combination I'd expect to enjoy – herbs and chocolate make sense together, as do lemon and basil, but I'd never imagined lemon, basil, and chocolate to be so harmonious.

Patrick Roger won “Best French Chocolatier” in 2000 for creating a life sized cocoa farmer named Harold. The chocolate farmer is based on a real farmer he met in Colombia in 1999, and was later sculpted into bronze. His other chocolate sculptures include seals, giant pencils, teddy bears, and hedgehogs – all that take an extraordinary amount of time, effort, and attention to detail. Chocolate is something I really enjoy working with, and I know I'll carry the lemon basil chocolate experience with me the rest of my pastry career. All I can do is hope I don't become too obsessed in trying to recreate it that I forget all other flavor combinations.

Photos snagged from patrickroger.com.

Espresso Caviar: Experimenting with Hydrocolloids

Hydrocolloids are defined as ingredients that interact with and control water. For example, xanthan gum, which you've probably most seen at the bottom of ingredient labels of packaged foods. Most come from natural sources like seaweed (carrageenan, agar agar, alginate), seeds (locust bean gum, guar gum), tree sap (gum arabic), and fruit (pectin). Some, like methylcellulose, don't occur naturally. Chefs over the past years have become entranced with taking these substances and using them to manipulate ingredients. Some of the most famous for doing this well are Ferran Adria of El Bulli, Grant Achatz of Alinea, and Wylie Dufresne of WD-50.

An article out of Food Arts gives a compelling argument: "Hydrocolloids allow chefs to take any pure flavor and, by adding a small amount [typically less than 1 percent] of a tasteless hydrocolloid, achieve any texture or consistency desired. Take a sauce. Thickening it by reduction alters its taste; thickening it with cornstarch or flour masks flavor, alters appearance, and requires heat. By adding a very small amount of xanthan gum instead the sauce gains the desired body with no effects on flavor or look and without any heat, a much more precise way to thicken it." It makes sense in a way. On the other hand, is playing around with white powders cooking? Isn't there an art to reducing a sauce the perfect amount?

I'd seen Tony Bourdain eating at El Bulli for his show, I'd read about Grant Achatz in Michael Ruhlman's writings. But I just pushed it to the back of my mind, after all - the only way I could judge such things was to eat it myself. It wasn't until I saw a video of Sam Mason (former pastry chef of WD-50) making beet caviar and applying it to a pastry dish that I actually realized I might, too, be able to do that. Combined with the fact that I've been, well, bored for lack of a better word with the things I usually make. Not that I don't enjoy eating creme brulee or fruit tarts or cookies or cakes, but I already know how to make them well - this gave me a chance to try something new and exciting; a whole new world of possibilities, even if it does feel wrong on some level.

I used a recipe for "tea raviolis" and changed it to espresso. It involves an algin espresso base, dropped by a squirt bottle into a calcium bath. Once it's in for 30 seconds it beads, you strain it, rinse it and voila - espresso "caviar." The texture was nice but there was a strange thickness to it towards the end - I'm not sure if this was from the size of beads I made or from leaving it in the calcium bath for too long.

Either way, I'm glad it came out as it did, and for now my creative boredom is satisfied.

Adieu, internship.

Tonight I got the last of the paperwork done for my internship hours that are required for graduation. It was in a kitchen I consider myself lucky to have experienced - small and fairly drama-free as far as kitchens go. The cooks listened to jam bands throughout prep and service, and with a young chef they managed to make some lovely and unique food that covered a range of tastes.

Every week was a different tasting menu, whether it be celebrating a specific food (duck, lobster, herbs, cheese, etc) or event. One of my favorites was their "Recession Menu" that included among a couple other courses: "Ramen" (pho broth with mussels and noodles), "Steak and Potatoes" (slow cooked short ribs, truffled mashed potatoes), and a mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich for dessert. Another one I can't seem to forget was the Phillies menu

involving wasabi water ice and krimpets for dessert.

I helped out whenever I had the time and after my fifth day of interning they even gave me the chance to be the pastry chef for nearly two weeks while their pastry chef went on vacation. Having been there five days, and then having them ask me to fill in for their chef that had been there for five years, I think I nearly crapped myself, and then accepted. It went well for me and was a great confidence boost. The entire time I helped out there I learned a lot, and it made me realize how much I love working in small places where people really care about the food and can give it a lot of attention instead of just trying to bang it out as fast as possible in a crazy service.

More restaurants like this one would be a wonderful thing.

Photo snagged from Philly mag.

The Four Seasons and Happy Thanksgiving

I'm now an employee of The Four Seasons.

Yeah, I don't know how I pulled that one either.

My last job was miles apart from this one. Not to talk shit, because that's bad etiquette...but I'm totally going to talk some shit. I was working as a line cook (ie: not learning what I want to learn as a pastry student), getting mediocre pay, working for 12-14 hour shifts without a break because we weren't allowed to take any, and barely eating because I didn't have the time to, on every day when I didn't have school. With school, culinary team, an internship, and work I was pulling about 65-70 hours a week and had hardly anything to show for it. My list of complaints is indeed quite large beyond this, but that's not for this blog. Working in the industry is hard, and I'm fine with that but: it boiled down to the fact that I wasn't learning what I wanted to learn.

So I quit. And my life is much happier now.

There were flyers posted throughout the school about The Four Seasons needing a part time pastry cook to help them out through the holiday season. I sent in my resume, got selected with a couple of others, interviewed, and got the job.

I went from working in a tiny kitchen to working in a luxury hotel with a 5-Diamond rate restaurant with its own pastry kitchen downstairs. A nice, roomy kitchen with plenty of equipment, its own walk-in, and its own freezer. There are seven pastry chefs that prepare the desserts and pastries for the restaurant and cafe, breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, room service, banquets, and special orders.

I've been there a little over a week now and have yet to see the hotel or courtyard or anything other than the kitchens and employee areas. What I was overwhelmed by, however, was the culinary kitchen upstairs that I walked through on my second day.

It. Just. Kept. Going. The dish area alone had to have been at least the size of my entire apartment. There was an entire section devoted to room service, then the hotline. There was a garde manger station and a cold food station. I was in complete awe at the sheer size of the kitchen. The walk-in was the biggest walk-in I've ever been in my entire life, and they have more than one.

Hopefully I'll be able to stay on longer than this holiday season, if not, at least I'll have the experience to bulk up my resume.

Oh, and side note: tonight I had some amazingly delicious food from Dim Sum Garden at 11th and Arch in Chinatown. Great pork and chive dumplings and chicken stewed noodles with a little cilantro and bok choy...only ten bucks, and enough for two meals. Right by Reading Terminal Market, I think I found where I'll be getting something to eat after my shopping.

I don't really agree with gorging oneself to the point of not being able to breathe on Thanksgiving as so many people do. That, to me, isn't being thankful. A normal-sized meal of good food surrounded by family and friends is what it's all about. I didn't get to have that this year unfortunately, but I'm still thankful for what I have: a career I'm passionate about ahead of me, family, friends, a wonderful boyfriend, and a great job at the moment.

Photos on this post were snagged from the chef's flickr photo stream that I found when I googled him to try to research before the interview.

Cupcakes & Gelato

I'm not entirely sure why everyone loves cupcakes so much. Perhaps it has something to do with our obsession with all things miniature being adorable, for whatever reason. I read a blog entry somewhere saying that they were the puppies of the food world - an interesting point, considering people can't help "ooh"ing and "ahh"ing at them, despite the fact that it's just an individually sized cake. Why don't people get their panties in a bunch over a slice of cake on a plate?

In any case, I can't say I'm not the same as everyone else when it comes to this. I have a painting of cupcakes and a sundae hung on my wall done by a friend of mine, cupcake necklaces, and am planning on getting a cupcake tattoo in the next month. At least by planning pastry as a career I have more meaning behind it than a lot of other people with them do. I know a few other girls in my classes have themselves some cupcake jewelry as well - we really can't help ourselves.

Tonight we'd planned on going to Capogiro for some gelato. They have some seriously fantastic, albeit expensive, gelato and sorbets. Seasonal, freshly made, light, and extremely flavorful. Flavors are different every day, with just a few that are always available. The blueberries and cream tastes like pure fresh blueberry, and they're not afraid to get adventurous with flavors like lime-cilantro and avocado. Just a couple of the flavors are duds - like plum, grape, and kiwi. When you're having a hard time choosing(it's not a choice of if, but when), you can have as many tastes as you like before deciding. It's the best gelato I've ever had, and it's not hard to see that tons of other people agree - the new location here in University City is packed every time I go by, including just before they close at 1am on the weekends. Having a Capogiro just a few blocks away is a serious danger to both my ass and my wallet.

Anyway, somehow we ended up ordering cupcakes for delivery instead. Cupcakes for delivery at midnight? Really? The peculiar fact that such a thing exists was, I'm sure, the driving force for me actually ordering any. I've never lived in an area where anything like this was available. Obviously, I could just make some, yet that thought didn't stop me from ordering a few to try anyway.

Alas, after a couple bites of each (plain vanilla, Peanut Butter x3: vanilla cake with peanut butter frosting topped with Reese's PB cups and crushed Butterfinger, Coconut Island Breeze: vanilla cake with vanilla frosting topped with marshmallows and coconut and caramel, Just Broke Up: chocolate cake with chocolate frosting topped with M&Ms and crushed Butterfinger and PB cups and chocolate cookie crumbs), I wished I had just made my own. None of it - absolutely none of it - had flavor. The frosting I'm sure was no more than powdered sugar and shortening without even a drop of vanilla extract. The cakes were tough and clearly overmixed: tunneling had occured and far too much gluten had been formed. A cake mix from Duncan Hines would have been better than the crap I'd just paid for.

Clearly the gelato gods were punishing me.

But at least somebody enjoyed it.

By the way - that book she's standing on is Michael Ruhlman's The Reach of a Chef. Go to the store right now and buy all his books and enjoy them as much as I have.

Restaurant.com

Tip of the day: Restaurant.com is having an 80% off deal that ends tonight at midnight. Apply discount code: NAPKIN when checking out - a $25 gift card for $2 is a hell of a deal!